Giving her journal back was the second hardest thing he had ever had to do – the first being, letting her go. Hoshi had asked him what he dreamt about. In response to that, his dreams were haunting him with a vengeance.
One dream in particular unsettled him – the dream he had had for the past two nights. He was disembarking from a landing platform, bone weary and drained, but something kept pulling at him, coaxing him to walk through the door to the waiting room. Excitement and warm built inside him as he neared the door. When it opened, an older version of Hoshi stood with one welcome arm extended while the other one cradled their daughter.
A little boy ran to him crying, “Daddy, Daddy! You’re home!”
The little boy was filled with excitement at the prospect of playing with his daddy. When Malcolm lifted his ‘son’ a horrifying site great him. His son had no face. He looked at Hoshi in alarm as she held his faceless daughter up to him; a spiteful grin crossed her face.
“These are the children you will never have because you were too much of a coward to tell me how you felt… too much of a coward to fight for us.” Hoshi’s grin was sad, yet cruel. He could feel her pain as though it were his own.
This was the ‘wake up in a cold sweat’ kind of dream. Certainly, Hoshi couldn’t have been in love with him. His mantra of ‘she was better off without him’ played in his head and he grasped at that to keep him sane.
Malcolm looked up from his dataPADD and nodded an affirmative.
“How are things going with Hoshi?” Trip jumped right in hoping that is suspicions were off.
Malcolm froze with his breakfast halfway to his mouth, shrugged his shoulders and said, “They aren’t.”
“Why not? What happened?” Trip pressed, shoving a mouthful of food into his mouth.
If looks could kill, Trip would have a phase pistol burn right between his eyes. Malcolm wasn’t going to talk about it. “Fine, be that way. I never figured you to be such an asshole, Malcolm.” Trip could barely contain his anger. He wanted to smack Malcolm upside the head and hopefully knock some sense into him.
“Excuse me, Commander,” Malcolm stated acidly.
Never one to not say what was on his mind, Trip poked Malcolm in the chest. “I found Hoshi in the observation lounge having some kind of nightmare and crying out your name. If you hurt her in any way shape or form, you better give your soul to the devil, because that is where I’ll kick your ass if I find out you’ve done anything to her.”
Trip got up and stormed out of the mess hall, leaving a befuddled friend behind.
Hoshi’s breath caught in her throat. Fear mingled with the love and passion she felt for Malcolm and she clasped her robe tighter around her. “Yes?” She asked icily.
He was at a loss for words. She was beautiful and half-naked before him. The reason for his visit escaped him as his love and passion overtook his reasoning. He crossed the room in three steps, took her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers.
For one breath of a second she resisted then melted into him, giving him what he sought.
His tongue traced her lips and they opened. His hands parted her robe and roamed the contours of her breasts. In turn her hands divested him of his uniform. The tugging and the pulling were awkward, but worth the effort as she pulled the Henley off of his shoulders.
Somehow he had managed to get his boots off.
The steam from her shower swirled around the hurried lovers. Both were afraid they would wake up before the dream ended. Hoshi pulled her naked lover toward the shower who went willingly, like a lamb to the slaughter.
The warm water poured over their skin as though welcoming long lost friends. Malcolm was under the spray while the side jets saturated Hoshi. Their lips met under the pulsing spray for a kiss. Tongues dueled and both fought for their breath.
He could take no more as he leaned against the wall; he lifted her and settled her heat around his mast, feeling her legs wrap around his. They thrust into one another quickly with short bursts. If he could he would love to crawl inside her and rest. He was never idle, always on the move. She made him want to stop and take in the scenery. She made him want…more.
He was unaware of her tears mixing with the water. His eyes were closed. In his mind he was picturing two people in love, making love. When he opened his eyes and looked at the reflection of himself and Hoshi, he saw the truth – one of the two was in love –him. The other was seeking release. He could hear her parting words – “No harm, no foul. It was fun while it lasted.”
Those words wounded him deeply, and the pain lanced through him even now. He wanted to lash out at the pain and the cause of his pain. He pushed into her damp heat and bit her shoulder. “Yes,” he hissed, “you’re a good fuck. Women are all the same.”
As he cheapened their union, he spilled inside her, lost inside her heat. He didn’t notice her clawing and scratching at him, pleading with him to let her go. He did so immediately, disengaging from her. The solitude and cold tore through him, but he stomped it down. He didn’t want to feel anything for her, good or bad.
“Get out,” she whispered and crossed her arms over her chest at an attempt for modesty.
“I said get out,” she murmured louder and held herself tightly afraid that she would fall apart before him.
Malcolm stood there as shame washed over him. He had hurt her again.
“Any time you feel like a good fuck, find somebody else. I’m done servicing you, Lieutenant.” The ice in her voice reflected the cold in her heart.
Malcolm dressed and left.
Hoshi scrubbed every inch of her body, trying to get the feeling of his touch off her. She knew he was using her and at some level she knew she was using him too. Her tongue ran over the tender inside of her cheek, tasting blood. She had bitten down in an effort not to tell him she loved him. In her nightmare, he had mocked her love and knew that if it ever came to that, she wouldn’t survive.
TBC
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